


When Devils Cry

by DeadPoolio



Category: Devil May Cry, DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: And mundus’s daughter, F/M, Fluff, Mom Reader, Porn With Plot, Reader Is Badass, half demon reader, reader is nero’s Mother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 02:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15676113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadPoolio/pseuds/DeadPoolio
Summary: 20 years ago you left your son with the order of the sword on Fortuna island, for his own protection. Your father and master the dark emperor Mundus after falling to the sword of Dante is recovering in his kingdom, biding his time, growing his strength. Your love, Vergil lost to hell with his twin brother Dante.Returning to earth, you seek to find your son and your lover’s brother Dante, to free Vergil and yourself for good.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lord knows a bitch shouldn’t be starting a new work again, but this has been stuck in my head for years, and with the impending release of dmc5 I think it’s the perfect time to write it all out. I’ve always wanted to write a story of my own take of the events in devil may cry. And thirsting after Vergil is about 80% of my motivation. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, stick around for the ride if you please, and of course, like and comment what you think, some suggestions I’m up for anything, if you wanna come scream about devil may cry with me come visit me @funkycoldmajima on tumblr xx

_Your body feels like lead, your hands tremble._  
_‘I will not be ashamed’_

_The order’s chapel comes into view up ahead, your steps slowing down to a snails pace._

_‘Let me hold him, let me be with him just for a little while longer..’ you pray, though you’re not sure to whom.. Demon’s have no one to hear their pain._

_Your eyes fall to the bundle wrapped up snugly in your arms, your cold heart clenching and throbbing rapidly as you gaze down at the infant._

_He looks like his father… you don’t know exactly how that’s possible, he’s swollen and pink, little fluffy tufts of Snow White hair on his scalp, and the most beautiful blue eyes.. His eyes._

_Tears flood your vision, cascading down your face like liquid heat, you thought you’d cried out all you had left, but looking down at your son, your greatest treasure, has opened the floodgates, you wonder if the tears will ever stop coming._

_The pain you feel at what you must do is so consuming.. So torturous.. You thought you’d felt every possible pain there was to feel in your short life, raised in both hell and earth, but this is unbearable._

_A content gurgle draws your mind from your sorrow, little hands reaching up towards you, curious, so inquisitive, you wonder if he can feel it already, the ties that bind you together, Mother and Son._

_He is your world and everything that surrounds it._

_He seems almost like he’s smiling up at you.. Those familiar blue eyes filled with so much innocence.. Unlike the matching pair._

_It’s why you must do what you have to do.. You won’t let your son be like you, like his father. He is your hope, your second chance. You won’t let him be taken from you.. If that monster learns of his existence you’ll never see him again, or worse, you’ll see him everyday being broken over and over again until he becomes the hollow shell you are._

_‘No. Not my child’ you vow._

_The early hours of the morning still shrouded in darkness provide you with the perfect privacy.. A moment, no matter how fleeting for the two of you, you’ll treasure it._

_‘Vergil’ you whisper, calling to him though you know he can’t hear you ‘lend me your strength, my love’_

_Your Nero Angelo, the love of your life._  
_You must do this for him, for your son.. For your family._

_Leaning down, you press a lingering kiss to his smooth forehead, the soft scent of his skin being stored away in your mind, the weight of him in your arms, his sweet face._

_Little hands make gentle fists of your hair, his tiny fingers curiously stroking through the strands, a soft little hum coming from him._

_“I promise you, I will always be with you”_

_His hand reaches for you._

_“Forgive me.. I don’t know how else to protect you” you confess, a moment of weakness your father and lover would both dispose if they were witness to it._

_“Know that I love you, that I will always love you. I will see you again, that I promise, my son” you place him down on the steps of the chapel, your hands don’t want to let go, tears spilling down your face. You ache._

_Taking the necklace from your throat, you tuck it into his blanket, leaning down to kiss him, just one more time._

_“Be brave, my darling Nero, the strength of Sparda is with you”_

_You pound on the chapel’s heavy doors, pulling your hood over your face. It takes everything you have to turn away, to force your legs to move and not look back._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So if anyone’s following this story I apologise for taking so long to update, i had to rearrange the story and rewrite more than half of it to fit with dmc5 and all the new lore we got with it. I promise I haven’t abandoned this work, and I’m passionately working on it.   
> Please comment any thoughts you have I’m always open to ideas and questions. X

Nero was at a loss in the wake of the Urizen incident.   
He never dreamed his family was right in front of him this whole time, Dante his uncle? And Vergil…   
He’d finally found the family he’d always wanted, only to have his father and uncle trapped in hell with no determined way out.

So He returned home to Kyrie and his boys, Nico’s loud mouth following, he was grateful for his patchwork family and never felt more at peace than when he was home, why then did he feel so much despair over the loss of Dante and Vergil? 

In the following months He spent an inordinate amount of time reading through V’s.. Or Vergil’s book of William Blake poems, it made him feel.. Closer.. to his father, still reeling over the loss of a friend, who turned out to be the humanity in Vergil. 

He’d decided pondering over that would drive him crazy, and had pushed V to the back of his mind. 

The book was clearly well loved, inside the pages were small artworks underneath the writing, some Vergil had drawn in messy crayon and pencil as a small child, others drawn later on his life that resembled photographs more than inked sketches. 

It wasn’t until he’d finished reading through it for what must have been the 30th time that he discovered the slip in the back of the book. 

He didn’t think Vergil as the sentimental type in the short interactions he’d had with him, though the very existence of this book appeared to differ.   
Still it came as a bit of a shock to Nero that he’d found a picture sealed away in the pages of his book.

It was another of Vergil’s detailed drawings, this one a woman sitting in the style of a portrait. What stood out to Nero the most was the demonic appendage in place of her left arm. 

She was beautiful whoever she was, he could see why Vergil would want to capture her likeness, her eyes gazed directly at the viewer, long hair fell like water down her shoulders, she had an elegance about her that was clear and strong even in the form of his father’s drawing. 

Who was she? She must have been someone important to his father for Vergil to keep her stowed away in his prized possession. 

Pondering over it for so long he’d caught the attention of Kyrie, who’d come to see what had him so captured. 

“She’s beautiful”   
Kyrie’s delicate fingers traced the picture before coming to a stop on the woman’s chest. Her fingertips stalled on the paper.

“Nero?” The astonishment in her voice alarmed him, immediately making him tense.

“What? you okay?” He’d wrapped an arm around her body, pulling her into his lap, concerned.

Kyrie allowed him to cradle her on his knees, but she didn’t look away from the picture she was turning towards his gaze. 

“That necklace, it’s identical to yours” 

Nero’s brow furrowed, hesitant to take his eyes off the look on Kyrie’s face, though he followed her gaze to the photograph. 

His chest tightened, the necklace tucked beneath his shirt felt more like an iron chain as he stared at a perfect rendition of his prized possession drawn around this woman’s elegant neck. 

“Wha-“ he was speechless, his hand reflexively reaching up to his own chest to pull the necklace from his clothing. He had to look at it, had to make sure this wasn’t something he was imagining. 

Sure enough, this woman and Nero shared the piece of jewellery he’d worn his entire life.

In his teenage years Nero had studied the necklace to the point of obsession. He’d taken it to every jeweller in Fortuna, trying to track down the maker or even the seller, with no luck. 

The necklace was a rare commodity, one of a kind. The red jewel in the centre of wings not of earth. 

Kyrie’s mother had told him once it was found with him when he was discovered on the orphanages doorstep. She explained she’d seen it once before around the neck of a young woman who’d helped her escape from demons. 

Nero had laid awake in his bed, twirling the chain around his small fingers on many a night, imagining the woman who’d left this with him. 

“How in the hell?” 

“Do you think..” Kyrie couldn’t finish the sentence, too afraid of sparking the longing and despair Nero had felt in his boyhood years. 

She knew how desperately he’d longed for his parents, all he wanted was a family, and she’d done her best to patch one together for him, given her heart and soul to him. He had come so far from the rude and angry boy he was, she couldn’t bring herself to remind him. 

Nero’s gaze could burn holes through the picture, he scrutinised it, studying the woman’s face. He found himself searching for similarities to himself, finding none unlike how uncannily he wore his father’s own features.

Flipping the picture with trembling hands he’d only encountered More questions. Scrawled in Vergil’s perfect script was one word. 

“Y/n”


End file.
